


Theory of Chaos

by HelenaKey



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Sex, Chaos Theory, Daddy Issues, Freudian Elements, Guilty Pleasures, Light Bondage, M/M, Modern Era, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Philosophy, Porn with Feelings, Power Play, Sexting, Sub!Grandmaster, Teacher-Student Relationship, Weird Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-02-15 22:42:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13041012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelenaKey/pseuds/HelenaKey
Summary: Temptation presents itself in the life of En Dwi Gast, a hedonistic phylosophy professor, in the form of a smartass student called Loki Odinson. What started as a casual fling starts to take unexpected turns, and chaos, as it was bound to happen, turns both of their lives outside down. In which Loki has lots of issues, moral grounds are thoughtfully tested, and the Grandmaster is Epicurus incarnated.





	1. Don't Stand (So Close to Me)

**Author's Note:**

> Well, well, well, if it isn't self-indulgence taking hold of me again. Yep, I actually wrote this, and I still can't believe I did it. But, hey, I guess every fandom deserves it's weird Collegue AU, and I'm happy to be the one who wrote it for Frostmaster. I'm still working on The Long Way Home so this one is going to be more like a side project, among all the other one-shot ideas I have. I'll try to update as regularly as I can, though)) I want to give a special thanks to @frostmasters for betareading for me, I don't think I would have dared to post this without her telling me that I managed (somehow) not to butcher the English language.
> 
> About the Age Difference, I wrote this imagining Loki being 23 years old, and the Grandmaster around his late fifties, so to say the gape is quite wide is an understatement. I was going to put a tag for Consent Issues on this one because the mere fact that Loki is a student and the Grandmaster his professor makes their relationship problematic, but I decided against it at the last minute because I didn't want to give the wrong impression. There's a big debate going on about consent in this fandom and I just, ugh, don't want to mess with that anymore. This is not a dub/con story by any means and everyone involved is very enthusiastic about it :)

As years passed by, the Grandmaster grew more and more used to the invasion of his privacy by impertinent, overfamiliar students. Responding thick inquiries about classes’ schedules, content incomprehension and thesis developments had become something of a daily nuisance for him, even when he actively tried to avoid it.

For all their obtuseness during academic hours, the little pests were awfully clever when it came to tracking down personal information; they got to him through email, social networks, phone calls and even text messaging. In the first years of his career as a professor, he had found it flattering; to have such a handsome number of young minds seeking him out in search of knowledge and advice. However, when it became obvious to him that what motivated them was not curiosity or a pure sense of wonder similar to his own, but a vain need to obtain a quick, satisfying grade, that feeling of accomplishment seemed to turn to ashes in his mouth. The Grandmaster still answered their questions, though, knowing as well as he did about how persistent students could be when it came to getting their way against an uncooperative faculty member; going from waiting for him in rows outside his office or following him around in his lunch hours, to pledging their case to the Dean of the university.

They were unexpected, but usually easy to respond, so when the Grandmaster's phone beeped that morning in the middle of a first course lecture, he glanced briefly at the screen to see who it was, and tucked it into his jacket pocket without thinking too much of it. It was a normal day. He'd woken up around 11:30 and within an hour and a half had been out in the street, driving in his Red Mercedes to get to his afternoon class. Students were no more noisy than usual, and professors were going around the hallways with those familiar, grim expressions that he had learned to ignore in his firsts months in the job. When he went out of the classroom his throat hurt for speaking so long without interruption, and he headed to the cafeteria of the university looking for something hot to drink. As he took the firsts short, sweet sips of his mocaccino, he looked down at his phone to open his SMSs and almost spit out the hot beverage all over the coffee counter. 

> I want you to do me in the couch of your office.

He stared down at the text for a few moments, not understanding. It was a short, well-written message, lacking the smiley faces and weird emoticons that his students usually sent him. The Grandmaster looked around himself, half-expecting to find the smirking face of a colleague in the bustling crowd of the cafeteria - eyes shining with the mischievous satisfaction usually brought by a daring prank. He saw no one; only greeted by the grim, closed up faces of anonymous characters. Briefly, he wondered if it was only Taneleer trying to make fun of him again; he did weird things like that, when he was bored. However, as he clicked on the text with his thumb to view more information, he quickly realized that it was a number he recognized, even though it wasn't in his contact list. A student's number. Not someone he saw regularly on classes, but one of the seniors that he was advising about their thesis - Loki Odinson. He frowned down as the phone beeped again, and as he read the second text he felt a strange expression, halfway between amused and incredulous, taking over his features.

> I want you to grab me and kiss me - rough and relentlessly. I want to know what it'd feel like to have you inside me. 

The Grandmaster stared, feeling acutely  aware of the crowd of people moving around his table; as though afraid that with a glance down they would guess at the content of his phone and take matters straight to the Dean's office. His boss was not particularly intimidating, and normally if he put enough effort in it he could be charming enough to get easy leeway out of her, but when it came to students things were always more complicated. He'd been a professor for a long time now, and knew by experience how much damage something as innocuous as an inappropriate text message could cause to his career. Colleagues had been fired for it, now and then; only a few of them unjustly. For a moment, he wondered if he should just ignore the messages. Nothing good could come out, surely, of responding to such taunting. Still, he found himself pulling out the keyboard of the phone and answering back - the corners of his mouth slightly turning downwards the only sign of his displeasure.

> This is, uh, really not funny.

He sent the text and put the phone aside, taking a long sip of coffee that burned his tongue unpleasantly. This was a bold move, even for a senior student. The fact that university campuses were fertile ground for the most senseless, oddly elaborated pranks students could come up with in days of boredom was not lost to him. Back in the 80's, when he'd been a young and careless freshman, always eager to unbalance the artificial order teachers and administration workers fought to maintain, he had many times pulled tasteless jokes on figures of authority he hadn't found to his liking. The Grandmaster had never been at the receiving end of one, though, and it was a turn of events he didn't much appreciate. Shaking his head, he pulled out a pencil from his suitcase and idly wrote some loose ideas he had for the subject of his next lecture on the edges of a napkin. There were still 20 minutes left for the next period to begin. His phone beeped two more times as he sat there waiting, and the Grandmaster refused to look down at it until he finished his beverage; the frown between his eyebrows deepening with every beep. As he unlocked the screen to read the messages, he tried to ignore that playful, easily swayed part of him that was eager to see what else was written.

> I want to get on my knees for you and take you in my mouth. Hard and slow.
> 
> I want to see the face you'll make, when you feel my tongue around you.

Growling under his breath, the Grandmaster quickly typed _"Srsly, stop it"_ and buried his head between his hands, angry at himself for letting a few alluring words get to him in such a way, evocative as they were. This was inappropriate beyond measure, and most likely meant to be some type of dirty joke made at his expense, but he would be lying if he said that the texts were not, at the very least, distracting. The fact that Loki Odinson was a rather distracting specimen himself didn't make things any easier for him. His bright, awfully clever green eyes had made him trail off and stare with admiration during their evaluations more than once, and whenever he left his office the slow, careful elegance of his every step had the Grandmaster staring after him with yearning. He felt the corners of his mouth turning downwards, realizing that his careless behavior might as well be the reason he was receiving these messages now. It hadn't even occurred to him that the boy might be able to notice his silly infatuation; let alone try to use it against him. He was mentally reviewing his last encounters with Loki, trying to find any gesture on his part that could have giving him away, when he was startled by his phone beeping yet a fourth time.

The Grandmaster stared at it for a few seconds, almost afraid of what he would find in there. He picked it up against his better judgement and read the text.

> I'm in your office. I can do more than talking, if you feel like testing me.

His face twitched. A photo came along with the message - a particularly... compromising one. The Grandmaster took a deep breath and put the phone aside, leaning heavily against the back of his chair. There were many plausible reasons for a student to be sending this type of messages to a professor who had a frighteningly big influence on the final outcome of his thesis, and none of them were particularly nice. In the best case scenario, the boy was wiping tears of laughter from his face along with a few friends somewhere around the campus, and nothing serious would come out of it unless he decided to inform the Dean about it. The fact that rumors about his sexuality had been spread around his workplace was not something to be glad about, he guessed, but he'd never been particularly quiet about what he was. In the worst case scenario, Loki feared for his final note and was willing to sleep with a professor he suspected to be homosexual to save it. It was a rather troubling thought.

The Grandmaster looked down at his clock and then back at the phone; the bold invitation of the last message ringing in his ears time and time again. He had his next class in ten minutes, and he had to pass by his office in order to get there. There was a dismal sensation in the bottom of his stomach that he belatedly recognized as nerves; the feeling was rather easy to ignore, however, when faced by the warm, overwhelming excitement stirring inside him, somewhere below his waist. It was not the first time he found himself facing such a situation. Female students, in the past, had offered themselves to him in order to elevate their grades. He had turned all of them down, for obvious reasons. This proposition, though, was the first of its kind, and he wasn't sure what he wanted to make of it. He knew, obviously, what his position as a professor require him to do, in such a situation, and a part of him wanted to hear that grounding, senseful part of himself and forget everything about these silly texts. But that photo was rather easy to look at, Loki had a subtle, eloquent way of phrasing himself that pulled at his inner-strings and he'd never been very good at resisting temptation when it came crashing in his life like this. He imagined having that young, lovely treat kneeling before him on the burgundy carpet of his office; a small, conspiratorial smile crossing sweetly pink lips, and he felt his conviction grumbling down around himself.

The Grandmaster licked his lips, pulling the keyboard of the phone again in an impulse, and then hesitating; suddenly wondering what he'd meant to answer. It took him a few minutes of blankly staring at the screen before, finally, daring to write back a response.

> Don't move. I'm on my way.

He typed with quick, nervous fingers and turned off the phone as soon as the message was sent. As he stood up from his chair and exited the cafeteria, he felt light-headed and oddly stiff; ridden by a heady, mysterious force that didn't allow him to think properly. He could get away with it, if he was careful. It wouldn't be the first time he deserted from a lecture without previous warning out of a whim, and the administration ladies already knew him too well to make a big deal out of it. His students would get a free hour out of their tight daily schedule, he would get to have some fun times with someone he'd been fantasizing about for a while now, and he could see to it that Loki graduated with the best grades of his whole course if that was what it took. _We all get our piece of cake, don't we?_ he thought wildly, crumpling down the paper cup of his mocaccino and throwing it away in the nearest trash can.

 

* * *

 

As it turned out, the problem with walking all the way from the cafeteria to his personal office was that it gave the Grandmaster a fair amount of time to reflect on what he was about to do.

Walking through the well known path flanked by over excited footballers and stressed out students, waving at acquaintances whose names he had forgotten but still remembered by face, he was suddenly grounded by the feeling of familiarity in his surroundings - as though a calm outside force were slowly making its way through his convulsed thoughts to make him see reason. He couldn't do this. Loki was his student and at least thirty years his junior, if not more; not to mention there was nothing ethical about sleeping with someone whose professional future rested in his hands, even if the offer hadn't been made as an attempt at bribery. The closer he got to his office, and the longer he pondered on the texts that had been sent to him, the more convinced he felt that writing back in itself had been a bad decision. Loki was a wild card and a trickster at heart, and despite the obvious dislike he seemed to feel towards football, loud partying and other activities most people in campus would consider of the masculine kind, to his knowledge he'd never been involved with another man and he'd never given any indication that he wanted to do so, let alone with a professor. Perhaps his first guess had been correct, and Loki was just messing around - for reasons comprehensible only to himself. The photo was taking it a bit too far, maybe, but young people were surprisingly carefree about that sort of thing, these days.

With a sinking feeling lingering at the bottom of his stomach, and hands trembling slightly in something that wasn't quite anticipation, the Grandmaster opened the door of his office and stepped inside, half-expecting to find it empty.

It wasn't.

Loki looked up from a thick philosophy book he'd been idly leafing through, and calmly leaned against the back of his chair - a small, indecipherable smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He was sitting on the chair of his desk, seeming at ease and oddly relaxed, given the circumstances. He was fully clothed, unlike the photo had first suggested, and upon taking a quick glance at him and at the office around them, the Grandmaster realized that it had probably been taken in a different place, at a completely different time. He swallowed thickly, wanting to speak but unable to come up with any words. Loki wore a dark turtle neck that enhanced his sharp bone structure, and white formal pants that revealed the beginnings of his ankles; his hands were covered in thin, elegant gloves of the same color, and his short black hair had been pulled behind his ears. He didn't seem surprised, concerned or even troubled by the Grandmaster's sudden arrival; if anything, there was a shine to his eyes and a tilt to his head that made him look almost pleased. "Good afternoon, professor." He said mildly, putting the book aside.

"You got a lot of nerve, don't you?" The Grandmaster began, closing the door behind him and turning to look at his student with a deep frown on his face. Far from seeming affronted by the disapproval in his tone of voice, though, Loki seemed amused by it; the little smile on his face only growing by the second. It was an infuriating gesture. He would have said something else (definitely should have) but suddenly Loki was standing up from his place at the Grandmaster's desk, step slow and measured, and seeming all too confident in the way he held himself. “What, what are you even thinking? Do you know what could happen to you if someone saw those texts? What could happen to _me_?" He tried, not sure whether he was trying to reason with the young man before him or with himself. His mouth felt dry, and that heady, mysterious force from earlier was pressing down on him again; clouding his thoughts; making his body tingle with anticipation. Loki was already advancing towards him, taking his time in breaking the distance setting them apart. At least he was standing before the Grandmaster - his expression determined and his bright, green eyes fixed on him with what could only be described as unadulterated boldness.

"Then we ought to make sure no one sees them, yes?" Loki said, placing his hand gently over the Grandmaster's chest - the thin silk of his white gloves a deep contrast with the thick fabric of his grey sweater. If he had been a better person, the Grandmaster would have shaken him off immediately; he would have scolded at the young, presumptuous man for his audacity, lectured him on ethics and respect for about twenty minutes just to make a point, and at last ordered him to leave his office. He was bad at resisting temptation, though, he always had been, and it wouldn't be the first time he let a feisty, pretty thing guide him into a hazardous adventure against his better judgement.

Loki smiled pleasantly at him, slowly reaching behind him with his free hand to put a lock on the door. The Grandmaster leaned back, suddenly feeling as thought there wasn't enough air in the room. Loki's hand slid lower without hurry, making small shivers run through him despite the layers of clothes separating them. It stopped over the soft black leather of his belt, lazily fiddling with the metal buckle in a silent invitation. He inhaled sharply, and amused green eyes bored into his, as thought daring him to make a move of his own; either pull him closer or push him away.

With his other hand, Loki ran his fingertips lightly over the Grandmaster's collarbone, making him press his lips together in consternation. "There's no need to look so grim. It was an invitation, merely. You could always say no." He said, moving a hand up to rest over the Grandmaster's shoulder - his movements still deceptively slow. He caught it easily, gripping at it with more force than what was necessary. Loki's smile only widened, tilting his head to the side in a curious gesture; as though he were studying the reactions of a spooked, rare animal. Reluctantly, the Grandmaster let go. Loki gripped lightly at his shoulder pats and pulled at his jacket, letting it fall to the floor and pool around their feet. He struggled not to make a sound as the kid slid down his body and knelt on the soft carpet before him - the sound of shifting clothes the only thing that could be heard in the room.

“You eh, you really, really shouldn’t…” The Grandmaster laughed nervously. He felt lightheaded; almost overwhelmed by that well-known warmth in his lower stomach that usually came with dangerous games and forbidden pleasures. He caught Loki's eyes and only stared at him for a moment, unsure whether the battle of wills currently waging inside him could be seen from the outside. Loki glanced back at him with confidence; as though he were trying to show, with his eyes alone, how proud he was of his own audacity, how utterly unashamed he felt of his own proposition. The Grandmaster's knees shook. He reached out and twisted a hand into Loki's curly black hair, allowing him to undo the buckle of his belt and lower his zipper.

Elegantly removing one of his gloves, Loki took his member in a large, warm hand and pulled it out of his pants; looking all too pleased as he realized that he was already half-hard.

The Grandmaster all but trembled as he felt a wet tongue pressing against the head of his cock, lightly tasting it for a moment before starting to slowly circle it. Loki's hand didn't let go of him - stroking him in a steady rhythm that made him close his eyes and let his head fall against the door behind him. The boy explored the skin of his member thoughtfully, taking his time; he dragged his tongue all over the root of his shaft and made his way to the tip, stroking swiftly here and there, coating him in a thin layer of saliva. He went down again, and caught the side of his cock between his lips, refusing to break eye contact as he earnestly sucked on it. The Grandmaster groaned, feeling any lingering hesitation fade away in this new sea of sensation.   

The hair sliding between his fingers felt soft and pleasant, and it complied easily when he moved his hand forwards to cup the back of Loki's head. He hesitated for a second, and then moaned lowly as he pushed to insert himself in a hot, pliant mouth. He panted harder, biting his lips to keep from cursing, as Loki took him deeper and then pulled back, pushed deep and then pulled back, his tongue lightly teasing the skin of his member and creating soft, slurping noises that in the quietness of the room sounded obscene and awfully loud. The Grandmaster relished in the soft pressure around him; wanting to buck his hips forwards to take control of the situation and only catching himself at the last minute. Loki was lazily lapping at his slit with the tip of his tongue, his hand squeezing the root of his shaft with light fingers.

Suddenly, the boy made an ugly gagging noise, retreating and then pushing forward again - forcing himself to swallow him deeper. The Grandmaster noticed, though, and reluctant as he was to pull away from the welcoming heat, he used his grip on Loki's hair to still him; making him stop his ministrations. He took a step back, creating some distance between them and allowing him to catch his breath. Loki stared up at him with a slight frown on his face, seeming confused by the action. He shook himself quickly enough thought, wiping a thin trail of saliva from his chin with the back of his hand and giving him a lopsided smile. "I realize that to be disrupted in this way during work hours might be something of an inconvenience for you, but I couldn't help myself." He said, idly untying the laces of one of his shoes. The Grandmaster frowned as he saw Loki take him by the ankles to retire his footwear, placing it aside and taking care of pulling off his socks as well. How odd. He remained silent, thought, entranced by the way the boy kept looking up at him; smiling slightly and refusing to break eye contact. "It had to be in your office. I've fantasized about it for _far too long_."

"Jesus, you... you are killing me here, sugar." The Grandmaster said, sounding out of breath. He let go of Loki's handsome curls and cupped his face with a rough, wrinkly hand; caressing with his thumb the soft skin of his cheek. Loki went entirely unresponsive for a second, staring up at him with the wide, expectant eyes of a child waiting to be struck. Even more odd. He relaxed after a few moments, though, and leaned into the touch, eyes lidded in contentment. The Grandmaster pressed one of his fingers against soft, pink colored lips, as thought asking for permission, and was delighted by the slow, sensual way Loki parted his mouth to give him entrance. He sucked his index finger eagerly, tongue flicking around it in a rather promising way, and the Grandmaster could feel the quiet humming of desire settling on his muscles, making him restless. Loki took a second and then a third finger, thoughtfully coating them in saliva - giving them no less attention than the one he'd given to his member. He hummed around his hand loudly, seeming strangely pleased by the chore he was performing. When he let go of them, he looked up and arched an eyebrow with great intent - head pointing delicately towards the couch at the other side of the office. The Grandmaster understood what he meant without having to ask. He'd read the texts, after all.

He knew he was being rough later, when he put his hands on Loki's slim but firm chest and shoved at him, making him fall on his back over the old black chesterfield, but at this point he was too far gone to suppress the impulse. It didn't seem to bother Loki particularly. He smiled up at him wickedly, opening his thighs and slightly rising his knees in the air, as if to show his eagerness. The Grandmaster helped him undress himself, undoing the buckle of his belt and pulling at the hem of his pants; doing his best not to look desperate. Now naked from the waist down, the mere sight of him made his mouth water in excitement; his fingers tickling with the need of exploring creamy, pale skin. He settled himself over the boy, prompting him to spread his legs wider by slightly pushing at them, and for a moment he limited himself to stare; drinking in the image of firm, long limbs closing in around his waist; of the swollen, needy organ silently asking for his attention with a buck of the hips, and the small, welcoming knot of flesh below his balls, waiting for him to make a move. It was overwhelming, just to stare at the body before him, let alone touch it.

Instead of yielding to the temptation, his hands moved upwards to grip at Loki's sweater, revealing strong, firm muscles that were not quite so visible beneath layers of clothe. Loki licked his lips expectantly, allowing him to retire his garments as he pleased. The Grandmaster placed a hand over his chest and teased a nipple with the tip of his nails - enjoying the way it grew harder under the light touch.

He knew he shouldn't want this; he knew that what he should be doing is talking some sense into his much younger, impressionable student; acting like the adult he was supposed to be. However, none of that seemed to matter at the moment; what mattered was the salty smell of sex radiating from Loki's body, the heady pleasure building up in his low stomach, and the way beautiful green eyes laughed at him from below, almost daring him to continue what he'd started.

He reached between Loki's legs and he got a low, pleased growl in return; a mild push against his hand as he closed deft fingers around the shaft. His thumb came up to draw concentric circles around the engorged head of his cock, making the boy arch his back against him in a silent plea for more. The Grandmaster felt a rush of excitement travel through him, feeling himself growing harder at the sight of Loki throwing his head back and exposing a pale, long neck. It felt amazing, to have someone like this; to engage in this type of things with someone much younger and prettier, and still be able to make them pant and writhe in pleasure beneath him. "I thought I was very clear about what I wanted." Loki said suddenly, grabbing him by the back of the head to pull him closer. His voice was gruff and impatient - his hips pushing against the Grandmaster's hand insistently. "I'd very much like to feel you inside me, now."

"Impatient, mmn? All fine, we're, uh, we're getting there." He said, leading his other hand, still sticky and coated in saliva, to the small orifice between the boy's legs. Loki moaned deep and guttural at the sudden intrusion, his fingers ranking through the Grandmaster's soft, silvery hair in an absent gesture. "I don't suppose you have..." He began, slowly introducing one finger and then retreating, only to push forwards a few seconds later. Inside everything felt soft and warm; a lovely pressure that only seemed to add fuel to his desire. He was patient about it. Saliva was not an ideal lubricant, and it'd been a while since he was desperate enough to prepare a lover in this way; the least he could do was try not to be too rough about it. Loki stared at him for a moment, seemingly not understanding his question, but a moment passed and he gestured at the discarded white pants laying on the floor, telling him to search in the right pocket. _Oh, great._ He put on the condom in a hurry, idly touching himself with one hand and using the other to open Loki up - trying to follow the cues of his writhing body and the rough sounds escaping his throat. He stroked him deep and thoughtfully, loving the way Loki's quiet, controlled nature was slowly transformed by the promise of physical pleasure.

The Grandmaster parted his legs wider in a haze, feeling his member throbbing in a strange, burning pain after spending so long without release. He bit hard into his lower lip, trying to ground himself, and made his way into Loki's warm entrance in a sudden, harsh thrust.

The boy breathed in sharply, muffling a shout between clenched teeth, and curled his arms around his shoulders as he began to push in and out of him; going all the way out and then thrusting back, nice and deep. Loki made a short, wounded sound, and the Grandmaster chided himself, passing a hand behind his back to draw him closer and press their bodies together. _Be careful_ , he reminded himself, licking the pale neck before him with a warm tongue. _He's not some rent boy you got for yourself at a shady nightclub. You gotta be careful._ He slowed his thrusting, beaming at the way Loki moaned in appreciation - his legs moving upwards to circle his waist, ankles locked together at his lower back. The Grandmaster cradled the back of his head in his palm, gripping slightly at the root of his curls to keep him from looking away; it was fascinating, how eyes usually so sharp and cataloguing looked when filled with lust. He traced the corners of Loki's mouth with his thumb, trembling just by remembering that only minutes ago he'd been inside it. The boy looked up at him with faint amusement, parting his lips to suck the digit in, gaze never leaving his as he surrounded it with his tongue.

"Wow, you're just..." The Grandmaster murmured, shifting to take a hold of Loki's calf and placing it over his shoulder. He let himself to be moved without complain, seeming unaffected by the situation despite the deep flush that kept spreading through his face. "You're so- so pretty. How are you so pretty?" He asked, panting, but it seemed that was a secret Loki was not willing to reveal, for he only smiled up at him in return; this time a quieter, less teasing gesture. He looked unrecognizable like this; the clever, self-contained student he had admired from afar for months now was gone, leaving behind a sinful, otherworldly creature - red-faced, hair wild, pale skin covered in a thin layer of perspiration. Finally finding a rhythm, the Grandmaster gripped at Loki's hips harder, one of his hands travelling down to wrap around his cock again. The body beneath him tensed immediately, squeezing him tighter, and he instinctively curled around it, feeling himself falter at the pleasure running through him. Loki pushed his lower body upwards, inciting him to go on, one of his hands clutching tightly at the back of his neck, and the other one resting over his shoulder.

There was something primal about the way he moved - a sort of desperation in the rotation of his hips and the tightening of his muscles around hard flesh. He'd gotten a lot of looks from Loki in the few months he had been tutoring the progress of his thesis. Sometimes the boy looked at him with a mild curiosity, often after he made yet another of the obscure philosophical japes Loki seemed to understand but not find amusing at all; as though he were a strange specimen, to open up and be dissected. Sometimes, he stared at him with annoyance, seeming almost offended as the Grandmaster told him that he needed to organize his ideas better before further developing his work. Sometimes, it must be said, Loki looked at him with awe and wonder, seeming delighted to hear his ramblings about chaos and creation, about the subjectivity of things and the ambiguous morals of modernity; thrilled by conversations that most students and even some professors found tedious. But he had never looked at the Grandmaster like this; as thought reality itself had faded away from his grasp, leaving behind only him and the slow, restless thrusting of his hips; his tongue drawing intricate paths across his neck and chest; his hand stroking him in a loose grip that made Loki growl in need.

"Come on, darling. Come for me." The Grandmaster said, lips closing around a soft earlobe; biting in only hard enough to make it sting. He was moving faster now, deeper; squeezing Loki's cock with more insistence. His ears were filled with deep, lovely grunts as he pushed forward, hungry and impatient in his search for release - nose buried deep in waves of curly, black hair. He could feel his orgasm building at the bottom of his stomach, and he shoved into that sweet, welcoming warmth more urgently; loving the way Loki opened his legs even wider, the picture of compliance and encouragement. He started babbling at some point, not entirely aware of himself as he told the boy how much he'd waited to do this; how many times he'd wondered what it would feel like to fill him up and make him scream in pleasure, how tight and hot his ass felt, how much he wanted to come inside him. Loki exhaled deeply and let out a long, suffering breath - his whole body tensing as he came in the Grandmaster's hand. He closed his eyes tightly, wet lips slightly parted as his orgasm washed over him; pleasure and relief making his usually hard, unquiet expression softer. The Grandmaster lazily worked him through it, squeezing him here and there, making pressure in the head of his cock with his thumb.

Even as the last spasms running through his body began to subside, and Loki just laid down over the couch, seeming content and oddly quiet, the Grandmaster didn't stop moving. He kept going, hitting time and time again that sweet spot that even now made Loki's hips buck slightly in appreciation - soft, lovely sounds of encouragement escaping his throat. Their faces were very close. He could see the way the boy's eyelashes fluttered with every wave of pleasure that went through him, how his eyes had gone soft and glassy upon finally being granted release. It was strangely intimate, to have him so close; knowing that the cofounded thrill of anticipation and lust was no longer there to cloud his thoughts. He had no idea what he did in the last moments of it; if he thrusted in a an angle that was particularly inciting, if Loki enjoyed the way he pressed his body against his chest, burying himself as deep as he could go inside him, or if there was something pleasing about the way he roughly grabbed his buttocks, spreading them as far as he could in attempt to gain more access - but the boy gave a loud, sinful shout, clenching around him in an all too intentional way, and groaned with satisfaction as his seed began to slowly fill him up.

They got dressed after that. The Grandmaster tucked himself back into his pants and pulled up his zipper, refusing to look back at his student as he headed towards the door to pick up his jacket. He could see his silhouette through the corner of his eyes, though; his long, elegant figure sitting on the edge of the couch, seemingly in no hurry to dress himself again. He looked somewhat more exposed than the Grandmaster did; deprived of any garments whatsoever, his hair wild and disheveled and face still flushed - inner thighs covered in a white, viscous fluid. Leaning against the back of the couch, he seemed tired and sleepy; thoughtful in a way he had never seen him before, in all the time he'd known him. The sight made something stir uncomfortably in the Grandmaster's chest, and he found himself going about the room looking for the boy's clothes, desperately trying to keep his mind off what he had just done. He handed them over to Loki, gloves and everything, forcing himself to meet his gaze. The boy looked up at him, that strange, confused frown appearing on his face again as he extended a hand to take the offering. "Y'know, you didn't really need to do this. You have a, eh, very impressive thesis. Gotta, uh, well, gotta fix some things here and there but it's not like I was going to..." He trailed off, not knowing where he'd meant to finish that question. "You just didn't need to do this.”

Loki stared at him for a moment, one long, suspiciously well-shaped eyebrow raised in incredulity. "You cannot possibly think..." He licked his lips, the first sign of nervousness that he had shown since the Grandmaster entered the office, and suddenly he was glaring up at him, lips turning upwards in a bemused smile. "I did not whore myself out to win your favor. I know my thesis is good, I worked hard to make it so." He said, something cold and cutting lining his words; like a knife slicing through a piece of butter. The Grandmaster frowned down at him, not understanding. Loki did not care to elaborate, though; he awkwardly put on his underwear, staring momentarily at the mess his own orgasm had made of his thighs and legs, but ultimately deciding that nothing could be done about it. He put on his pants and sweater, and covered his hands with the pretty, white gloves once again; slowly regaining that measured elegance that he had grown so familiar with, in the past few months. "Jeez, come on, n-no need to be so sensitive. I didn't mean it _like that_."

"Then how did you mean it?" Loki asked, brushing his hair backwards in an attempt to make it look more presentable. He was not staring at him anymore, instead focusing in gathering his few belongings to quickly take his leave. As he was grabbing his raincoat, ready to put it on and venture outside, the Grandmaster approached him and took him by the elbow, making him stop to look up at him. "I didn't mean to, like... insult you or anything, alright? I'm sorry." He said, not knowing what else to say. He couldn't fathom why Loki Odinson would want to use _him_ like booty call, of all people, but he seemed offended enough to make him consider that his first impression had been mistaken. Loki stared at him for a moment, seemingly debating whether he should dim that with a response or simply shrug him off and walk away.

"Do you usually think that people are trying to get something from you, when they say they want to sleep with you?" He asked, tilting his head slightly to the side. The Grandmaster felt his lips tugging upwards and fought to suppress his smile; not warning to further upset his student _. You stop it right there, old man_ , a small, barely audible voice told him in the back of his head _, you had your fun for the day, did you not? Just, uh, tell him to leave and be done with this._ He raised a hand and brushed aside an offending black curl from Loki's forehead, tucking it behind his ear. The boy visibly struggled not to let his pleasure show, but he could tell by the way his eyes lit up and how the corners of his mouth mildly trembled that he enjoyed the small gesture.

"When they are young and pretty like you? Yeah, it- it crosses my mind." He said, making something funny, almost self-deprecating with his eyes and mouth that, at last, made Loki laugh out loud. He beamed internally, feeling stupidly proud of himself, for such a small feat.

"Well... I wasn't." Loki's smile seemed more natural, this time; small and easy, similar to the ones he was used to see during their evaluations, even if there was something about it that seemed a bit off. A certain shine to his gaze that hadn't been there before. Then Loki's hand was over his chest once again, like when he first entered the office, his body leaning a little more towards him than it was necessary. The Grandmaster swallowed hard, feeling something like nerves fluttering in his low stomach, now that lust and desire weren't there to keep more complicated, grounding feelings away. "You have my phone, yes? If some day you're bored, you may text me. Return the favor, maybe?" He asked, and the Grandmaster barely managed not to squirm as he remembered how it had felt like - to have Loki's tongue nursing the skin of his cock, thoughtfully lapping at soft, vulnerable places.

"I, eh... I don't think that's a great idea." He said, feeling more than conflicted about his response - his lips suddenly felt strangely dry. Loki paid it no mind, asking him to consider it anyways. He gave him one last long, teasing smile, and put on his raincoat to go and brave the weather outside. He looked completely unaffected by what had happened, he noticed with a bit of jealousy; clothes clean and perfectly arranged, hair pushed backwards and only slightly disheveled, expression sober and carefree, despite his amusement. The door made a small thud as he closed it behind him, stepping into the hallway and leaving the Grandmaster alone in his now silent office.

Running a hand through his hair, he looked down at his clock to see the hour. His class had ended fifteen minutes ago.

 


	2. Every Little Thing She Does

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, two updates in a month, this is a freaking record for me. I know I said this was going to be a side thing but for some reason my head keeps coming back to this finc, instead of, y'know, concentrating in my main projects *sigh*. I had a really good time writting this chapter, though. It has an embarrasing amount of Sub!Grandmaster so, anyone who is not into that might want to skip this one. It's not my cup of tea, either, if I'm honest, but I saw a few people in tumblr talking about it and I felt like giving it a try. I don't see myself writing too much about it in the future, at least not for this story. But, hey, gotta try new things. It was fun!
> 
> Again, thanks to @frostmasters for beta reading for me :)

As everything else in life, relationships are something that is bound to change with the passage of time, for better or worst. From a couple renting their first apartment together, to an unhappy wife filing the divorce papers to her lawyer, certain events have the power to transform the way two persons feel about each other. After a lifetime of hooking up with a long list of haughty, capricious and fickle men the Grandmaster knew about these abrupt developments more than he cared to admit, and he was aware that once one of them has taken place it's almost impossible to go back to the beginning, as much as one might try.

This is why, entertaining as it had been, his first encounter with Loki left him feeling so conflicted; for he didn’t know what to do about the way his relationship with the student had suddenly evolved.

That afternoon, after they both got dressed and went their separate ways (taking care of cleaning up any trace that might have given away their scandalous meeting) it seemed like any other afternoon in the Grandmaster's daily life. He came back home to a mess of paperwork and half-corrected essays that he had to return to his students by Thursday; a prissy Afghan Hound called Lulu who refused to go to sleep without getting her hair brushed first; and an upstairs neighbor who had a thing for listening to Nirvana in full volume until 3:00 in the morning. He did nothing out of the ordinary. He looked for some quotes that might help him in the class of the next day while watching crappy television, barely following the unwinding of Cat Fish's latest investigation. He cooked only enough for one person, and ate with the same disinterest that homemade food usually brought him. When he was done, he smoked a small joint to keep his mind off of things for a while, and added some slow techno as ambient music to make the experience more enjoyable.

The only thing that made that night different from all the others was that when he took off his clothes to go for a quick bath before going to bed he caught the scent of a sweet cologne much more subtle than his own lingering on the thin fabric. There were suck marks and love bites pulsating all around his neck, and a faint tingling at the base of his cock that didn't allow him to forget the places Loki's tongue had teasingly stroked. He felt lighter than he had for weeks, maybe even months.

He supposed they would have to talk about it, sooner or later.

The Grandmaster was rather carefree when it came to respecting protocol, and in the past he'd taken far more liberties in his classes than most in his profession would deem advisable, but even he was senseful enough to realize that a professor and his student couldn't start sleeping together without things turning complicated fast. The idea of any Faculty member finding out about what had happened filled him with dread. He had never been one to stash away big savings, and with today's economy and the sorry state of his finances, he couldn't afford to lose his job. It was a wonder they hadn't kicked him out yet, with the animosity most of the other professors held for him and his suave demeanor. If things got dire and he had nowhere to go, he could always count on Taneleer lending a helping hand, but having to turn to his little brother because his own stupidity had got him fired was something that didn't sit well with him. The idea of Loki being expelled because he hadn't been able to keep it in his pants and tell him to back off also troubled him deeply.

Still, the Grandmaster found himself pulling out his phone and opening his latest conversation with the boy; wondering if he should, perhaps, make an invitation of his own for tomorrow. He hesitated, unsure whether it would be welcomed, despite what had been said. People do tend to change their minds fast, once the mind-numbing effects of orgasm fade away. He texted nothing, afraid of the answer he might receive. He got hard just by reading the messages of earlier that day, though, even more inciting now that he knew they had, against all odds, turned into reality.

His imagination took the best of him, and the Grandmaster found himself masturbating while thinking about the boy - tongue swirling and lips obediently wrapped around his professor's cock, green eyes full of earnest as he swallowed his warm seed. He felt guilty immediately after, and had to come back to the shower to get rid of the sudden feeling of being dirty.

Loki didn't text him that night, nor the day after, and turn between relief and disappointment, the Grandmaster took this as a cue that their encounter had been a one-time occurrence. He was, perhaps, a whim of the moment; a silly fantasy about an older, more experienced partner that the boy had taken too far, and was most probably regretting by now. He tried his best not to let it sting. Their next meetings seemed to prove him right, however, and that did manage to upset him. Loki was as respectful and distant in his presence as he had ever been, and besides a few fleeting, hesitant glances in his direction in their first evaluation after the incident, he gave no signs to care or even remember what had transpired between them. He was eager to know the Grandmaster's thoughts on his thesis' developments, though, and took note of his criticism with sharp attention, as it was his costume. He could, at the very least, take comfort on the fact that he hadn't lost the boy's respect, despite everything, but that seemed a somehow hollow consolation.

Loki only texted him to ask for the time of their meetings, and sometimes looking for some advice when it came to finding references and quality books. The Grandmaster gave his aid without prompting, struggling not to let his personal feelings get on the way. In time to time, he went looking for the bold, forbidden messages of that sweet afternoon, and could feel himself growing warmer just by reading. He refused to masturbate again thinking on the boy, but his austerity was lacking when faced by his self-indulgent nature, and most of the time he ended up yielding to the temptation. When his need was too great and his hand didn't satisfying him, he went to the Roxy in search of some dark haired beauty to vent his frustrations on.

Then came the day when the Grandmaster pulled out his phone to look at his SMSs, only to find two short, simple messages from the handsome young man that had been hunting his sleep for almost three weeks now:

> I trust you are not occupied, Grandmaster?
> 
> I have a free hour and the keys of an empty classroom in the left wing. May I interest you in coming for a while?

In the end he would have liked to claim he was strong enough to refuse the invitation; something he must have learned, surely, after almost a month mooning about a boy who apparently thought himself capable of using him like a booty call whenever he pleased. Apparently, he hadn't. The Grandmaster left his office in a hurry, feeling that warm, overwhelming sensation of the last time clouding his thoughts like a grey mist. He didn't try to fight it this time, enjoying the sudden heat currently spreading through his body, making his legs feel numb. Loki looked as marvelous as in their first encounter, seating in the middle of the teacher's desk with his legs crossed, his head tilted back and a sweet, mischievous smile unfolding on his face. He was wearing adjusted black jeans and a loose grey shirt that revealed his collarbone - short, black curls tidily pulled behind his ears. This time, he'd brought lube along with the condom. The Grandmaster felt overwhelmed, throat terribly dry and hands trembling with excitement. He got his fingers inside Loki without much prompting, slowly working him over the desk until that tiny knot of flesh yielded before his attentions. The boy opened his legs for him and threw his head back - the bucking of his hips accompanied by a light tremor that spoke of desperation. He took him fast, rougher than the last time now that he had the easy friction of lube, and grabbed him by the hair to give himself an illusion of control, even though he never actually pulled at it.

They got dressed quickly, and Loki cleaned himself as best as he could before heading to his Literature class. He invited the Grandmaster, once again, to call him whenever he felt like it, smiling with mild amusement; as thought he somehow knew that he had badly wanted to do so but ultimately couldn't muster the courage. A few weeks of silence followed after that. The awkwardness on his part somehow faded from his evaluations with Loki, now that he knew that the original proposition of a second meeting hadn’t meant to be hollow placating. He still didn't feel safe enough to talk about it out loud, though, and whenever he saw the boy he never failed to avoid the matter and pretend nothing out of the ordinary was happening between them. Loki meet this with amusement rather than annoyance, smiling at the way his usually loud, flamboyant professor was suddenly stuttering around him and not looking him in the eyes. Their third encounter was as rushed and intoxicating as the first two, and it took place in a secluded part of the university library, after the Grandmaster woke up to a text that had him getting dressed and driving towards his workplace in a matter of 20 minutes, even though his first class wouldn't start until 2:30 pm:

> I keep thinking about you, after the other day. You beneath me, gasping and buried deep inside me. Me riding you slowly - clenching around you as I move. Indulge me? I’ll make it worth your while.

The fourth time Loki decided to break their silent agreement of not speaking about their time together during evaluations, and texted him while he was sitting across the room, leafing through the pages of a tentative introduction to the his thesis. He smiled as he saw lust feeling his professor's eyes once again, and then proceeded to crawl under the desk to undo his buckle and squeeze his member with long, deft fingers. The Grandmaster came almost embarrassingly fast, delirious with the way Loki's thumb kept massaging the slit of his cock - left hand working him up and down as he teasingly lapped at his perineum. He felt satisfied and even exhausted just by those small, barely there ministrations, and still Loki was capable to catch his interest a second time by licking him clean from his own orgasm, impatient to make his member rise again to climb on his lap and used it as he pleased.

They only ever meet in the campus, usually in the Grandmaster's office or in empty classrooms, even though sometimes they were bold enough to go to less private places. They never cared to rent a hotel room, and the Grandmaster was reluctant to invite Loki to his house; thinking it would make their meetings more personal and awkward. The most intimate moments they shared were when the boy bid him goodbye, smiling up at him and lightly caressing his chest, as if trying to seduce him even though their coupling had ended only minutes ago, or when the Grandmaster dozed against his young lover after reaching orgasm, trying to gather his wits before pulling away from his touch. Then they went back to their daily routines, whether it was giving a class or attending to one, preparing the questions of an exam or studying for it, or just lazily reading through the content of the new semester, hoping it would not be as difficult as the last one.

With time, some rules were established. Every few days Loki texted him with some new, increasingly wilder propositions, and the Grandmaster did his best to slip out of whatever compromise he had that day in order to indulge him. He felt his muscles humming with energy, pleasantly relaxed in a way they hadn't been in years, and the constant stimulation and release of endorphins had him feeling giddy with happiness even in his most trying days. He felt lighter somehow; more ready to face mental challenges, and not so easily bothered by the most simple, tedious task of his day to day life. When he asked himself what exactly was going on between him and his student he had no answer; it was just casual sex, as far as he could tell, and a part of him was certain that their little escapades were bound to end more sooner than later. Loki was young, handsome and cleverer than most of the teaching staff gave him credit for - surely, it wouldn't be much of a feat for him, to find himself a more appropriate partner; one closer to his age and more pleasant to the eye. The Grandmaster tried not to let the thought bother him too much.

 

* * *

 

Nothing worth telling had happened that day. The Grandmaster had been on his way home when he felt his phone vibrating, and as he pulled it out to see who it was he half expected it to be one of the little pests of the first course; always bothering him with inane questions that their classmates could easily answer in his stead. He was wondering whether he should try and change his number for the third time that year, if only to have some weeks of peace and quiet, when he opened the text and realized that it was just his little lover. 

> I bought a little something in a store downtown. I'm rather looking forward to use it on you tonight, if you let me.

He read the message with a slight smile tugging at his lips, feeling a spark of anticipation already running down his back. He waited to get to a stop sign, and all too eagerly typed a response:

> My, my, what could that be?

They hadn't done much yet, even though they had already been sleeping together for almost three months. The Grandmaster still wasn't sure to what point Loki was willing to go with him, and given that out of the two he was the most inexperienced, he preferred to leave the decisions to the boy; fearing that otherwise he would be imposing himself on him. Loki liked to pleasure him with his mouth, and allowed himself to be taken in this way at least once during their meetings; he also enjoyed riding him, and get on fours for him, occasionally. There wasn't much to say, besides that, even though they had been particularly bold with where and when they had sex, so the Grandmaster was eager to see what the young man had in store for today. Instead of a text in response, however, Loki sent a picture. A photography of a thin, well arranged set of dark blue robe, and a subtle leather collar of the same color; crossed by thin, golden ornaments. The Grandmaster felt himself blushing, his face turning to a fierce color red. Attached to the collar there was a heart-shaped name tag where he could clearly read, in a nice, elegant font, the word _Daddy_.

It took him a while to agree, even though Loki repeatedly reassured him by telling him that he didn't meant for them to go too far. The Grandmaster wasn't shy when it came to experimenting, and he'd played his fair share of dangerous games in the easy, sexually-ridden days of his youth, but that had been a long time ago. The last time he'd taken the passive role during a scene for one of his partner he was 36, and even thought he knew people that had aged a great deal less gracefully than he had, he no longer possessed the delicate, lavish features that had given him confidence back then. He was not one to back away from a challenge, though, and in the end he allowed the boy to tie his wrists behind his back in a tight, elaborated knot, making him lay down on the bed with a light shove so he was staring at the ceiling. The Grandmaster took a deep breath and did his best not to struggle against the bindings, trying to keep his composure as he felt a warm tongue trail over his collarbone - thin lips lightly sucking on the skin there and leaving swell, purple spots behind.

He was only half-naked, his pants removed and his cock exposed in the air - thighs still covered by the thin fabric of his white underwear. He wore a blue dress shirt, (elegant but not too formal, the type he had bought especially for going to work), which had been unbuttoned all the way down as to reveal his stomach and abdomen. The Grandmaster wasn't a fan of taking off his clothes during sex, and since his encounters with Loki usually took place in semi-public places he felt safer maintaining some of his modesty. That didn't seem to be too much of a problem for his lover boy, though, and he had, indeed, grown to enjoy the feeling of the young men's naked skin rutting against the fabric of his pants, growing harder at the light teasing of cloth thread. He usually liked to grip at Loki's hair while they had sex, lightly pulling at it to reveal the pale skin of his throat and shoulders, but with the biddings that was quite impossible for him. It was frustrating somehow, and he found himself making weird, erratic movements to get rid of the restlessness such restriction caused him; clenching and unclenching his hands, struggling against the bindings and constantly shifting his legs. Loki watched this with amusement, enjoying the way his frustration grew with his teasing ministrations.

He licked the shell of his ear with a wet tongue, carefully biting on the lobe - deft fingers lightly toying with the collar he had clasped around the Grandmaster's neck with way too much pleasure. He could feel the base of his cock throbbing, a treacherous hot liquid falling from the tip in drops, just by thinking that in the end he had agreed to wear it.

He was shuddering more intensely with every passing minute, low, deep moans escaping his throat as Loki made his desire grow with careful touches. He giggled at his squirming form, a deep, attractive sound that the Grandmaster found increasingly endearing the more he heard it, and moved his head down to trap one nipple between his lips - tongue circling it slowly as he began to suck. The Grandmaster made a strangled sound, unconsciously bucking his hips forwards. Loki held him by the hips and pushed him down again, pressing him against the mattress as if to tell him not to be impatient. He complied with little to no protest, letting his legs sprawl open with only a hint of hesitation. Loki licked his lips absently, taking the hem of his trousers and pulling at it to free him of the thin cloth.

He was hardly new to this, and yet he found himself feeling slightly anxious. It had been a while since he had allowed himself to be taken by another men. As of late all his partners, especially the ones that were more than a few years his junior, seemed a great deal more interested in receiving rather than giving. Since he usually enjoyed to be the one in control, he had rarely contradicted their wishes. However, as he had proved the very first time they were together, Loki was rather good at convincing him to do things he would normally consider foolish or unsafe, and as time passed by it was only getting harder and harder to deny anything to the boy.

"I want to open you up, slowly." Loki whispered, lowering his head so his face was inches away from the Grandmaster's. His voice was low and confident, lined by a hidden hunger that made him shiver. The boy's right hand came up to grip at the collar around his neck, his grip firm and possessive, and the other went down to fondle his balls with light fingertips. With a light pull of the wrist his breath was cut off; not enough for it to be a problem, but enough for him to notice. "I want to be deep inside you. Feel you clenching around me as I come. I want to leave a mark in you so raw, so intimate, that you can never, _ever_ wash it away." He said, shifting on the mattress to straddle the Grandmaster's thighs. He was hard as well, his cock pulsating against his lower stomach in interest, but Loki seemed resolute not to give in to his instincts, and as great as his need was he did not seek his touch. He went down again instead and licked a long line across his chest, stopping to flick his tongue over one of his nipples. "Do you want me to do that?" His lover's voice was husky with desire, cold breath clashing against the Grandmaster's wet skin, making him tremble.

"Yeah, I- I want you to do that." He said dazedly, eyes lidded, mouth hanging slightly open, hands clenching and unclenching at his back. Loki smiled down at him, pleased, and moved forwards to trap his lips in a long, thoughtful kiss. He always took his time when they were making out, causing the Grandmaster to buck his hips in desperation with the way he bit on the soft skin of his mouth, sucking in his tongue deeper and deeper the more the kiss lasted. He moaned against Loki's lips, opening his legs wider; not moved by a need to please the boy, but by an overwhelming, sudden desire to be possessed that he hadn't felt in a very, very long time.

Loki made himself at home between his thighs, kneeling on the mattress and gripping at his calf to push them further apart. He didn’t break the kiss, making it deeper; lacing his tongue with the Grandmaster's and greedily sucking on it. As they pulled apart, a thin trail of saliva remained between them, uniting their mouths. Loki brushed it away with a mild frown on his face, bending to the side to hunt down a bottle of lubricant in the nightstand. He pulled it out of the drawer and placed it a few inches away from the Grandmaster's head, leaving it untouched, to his lover's great frustration.

"Be patient, Grandmaster." Loki said, carding his fingers through the man's soft, silvery white hair. His hands had always fascinated him; they were big and strong, and yet somehow delicate, the digits long and nicely shaped. "Waiting makes everything better." When Loki brought one to his mouth and lightly pressed it against his lips, he complied immediately, scraping his teeth over his thumb for a moment before closing his lips around it. He knew this was not necessary. They already had lube, and with his request Loki only meant for him to work for the pleasure of watching him. Of knowing that the Grandmaster would follow his command without reason, with the one and only goal of being obedient. He could feel his cock growing harder just by thinking about it. Loki exhaled with a shudder, eyes slightly closed, and moved against him in a small, subtle movement, as though trying to restrain himself and not being quite able to do so. With his other hand Loki went down and pulled at one of the Grandmaster's nipples, making him cry out in exhilaration.

He was feeling nervous again. The body above him was long and slender; skin soft to the touch, with beautiful, endless legs and unexpectedly strong muscles. Loki was handsome, young and all too confident in himself, and sometimes that came across as intimidating; but tonight the feeling didn't make him doubt as it usually did, instead adding fuel to his desire. When the boy poured some lube over himself, and finally pressed the hot, engorged tip of his cock against his entrance, he didn't know what he had been expecting, but it was not the strong, overwhelming sensation of fulfillment that suddenly washed over him, making him open his mouth in a silent cry. He felt certain warmth building up inside him, making him restless. His own member was burning with an almost painful need, and his head felt soft and light, as though it had been stuffed with cotton. "Be good for me, mmn? Do not make a sound." Loki whispered, pressing a kiss against the Grandmaster's ear. He nodded, allowing the boy to grab him by the knees to place his legs further apart. The position was somehow uncomfortable, for it placed the weight of his whole body over his tied up arms, but he said nothing about it, and merely followed Loki's lead. It had been a while, but he still knew how the game was played.

He wondered, as hands slid down his thighs to grab his buttocks, giving them a playful squeeze, if he would be able to get it right, after so long. Perhaps it was like learning to ride a bicycle; something he couldn't forget, no matter how much time passed. Then the boy's temple was resting against his collarbone, one hand on his hip and the other around his knee, and he was being stretched out and filled up in the inside, slow thrusting movements making his breath stager. Loki topped pretty much in the same way he bottomed; slow but intense, taking care of every movement, every small gesture. One of his hands came down and gripped the Grandmaster's cock by the base, holding it but making no attempts to stroke it or give him pleasure. He held back a moan, surprised by the unexpected way such a subtle, possessive gesture affected him. "Be still. Do not come until I say so." Loki said without stopping his thrusting; going in and out in long, hard movements that pushed the Grandmaster's body backwards each time.

The way his arms were restricted suddenly became more obvious, as his instincts told him to hold on to the body above him and he found himself incapable to do so. Frustration grew in his chest, and he tried to get rid of it by closing his legs around Loki's waist, instantly feeling how the position made his cock go even deeper inside him. His breath caught, and he gasped the boy's name in a daze, asking him to keep going, to do it faster. Loki spanked him without hesitation, hard enough for it to leave a swollen, red mark on his buttock, and shushed at him with a harsh voice. "No talking. I want you to keep it quiet." He said, grabbing his jaw and forcing the Grandmaster to look him in the eye. He dragged his tongue over his cheek, cold breath sending shivers down his back, and the rhythm of Loki's thrusting changed to go even slower. He groaned unhappily, and a second spank came.

It felt most strange, to be taken like this. The way the measured pace was massaging his prostate, prolongation the stabs of heat repeatedly hitting his low stomach; how the angle allowed Loki to go so deep, reaching places he had forgotten existed, while his right hand kept a tight hold on his member, giving occasional squeezes. His other had was pushing at his chest, grounding him; teasing his nipples in time to time with the nail of his thumb. The Grandmaster tried to open his legs even wider, in an attempt to grant his lover more access, but he felt a sharp pain on his left thigh that sent a spasm through his body, making him do exactly the opposite. He stayed awfully still for a moment. He said nothing, hoping it would fade away, but the pain only grew stronger as time passed by. Loki seemed to take notice of his discomfort, for he stopped moving altogether, turning to look at him with a mild frown on his face. "What is it?" He asked, panting against his neck.

"Eh, it's- it's nothing, just..." He stuttered, feeling his face grow slightly warmer, this time not out of exhilaration. "Just kind of a cramp." He looked away, feeling embarrassed in a way that was not pleasant in the slightest. The Grandmaster knew he had some years on his back, and it wasn't the first time his age got in the way when he was trying to have a good time with his little lover. These problems, however, normally involved just certain exhaustion, a difficulty to keep up with Loki's insatiable appetite, and that was something that he could hide if he made an effort. This, though, he couldn't dissimulate.

The boy stared down at him for a moment, arching an eyebrow, and the Grandmaster had the impression that he was about to laugh out loud. Instead, he lowered his legs and asked him "Where?" - eyes unreadable, mouth set in a thin line. He gestured at his left thigh somewhat awkwardly, biting in his lower lip to handle the pain. Loki's hands came down to make pressure on the tense muscles, moving his fingers up and down along the limb. He didn't pull out of him, just shifting backwards a little to put some distance between them and have more room to work. Relief washed over him, and he allowed himself to fall back on the pillow. As he slowly started to relax, that cocky half-smile that always appeared whenever Loki felt pleased with himself unfolded on his face. He leaned forwards, placing a sweet, short kiss on the Grandmaster's lips, an after giving him a moment to compose himself he started to thrust again.

He took a hold of his hair once again, pulling at it to nip at the soft skin of his neck, just above the collar, and then sweeping his tongue over it. The Grandmaster felt like crying out, but he didn't - he wanted to slide his hands down his lover's back, stroke his skin and kiss his lips, moan loudly at the way he was moving, fast and determined, inside his body, but he couldn't. He just laid back helplessly, feeling unspent energy sending jolts of pleasure through him. Loki pushed himself up, his pale, well-toned chest moving at the rhythm of his harsh breathing. He roughly took hold of his buttocks, squeezing them; setting them apart to go deeper. He fought to suppress another groan, fists clenching at his back, and locked his ankles once again around Loki's waist, being careful not to force himself too much this time.

The boy gripped at his collar again, pulling at it harshly and making him gag. The Grandmaster let out a sound, finally; a high, pitiful whine that earned him another pull and a hard, punishing thrust. The lack of oxygen mixed nicely with the arousal building up inside him, making him feel delirious, and he welcomed it with a lack of apprehension that would have disturbed him, were he in his right mind.

Loki put his hand around his cock once again, moving it up and down as he continued thrusting, and the Grandmaster moaned loudly at the touch, not able to hold himself back anymore. A spank came again, then a second, then a third, and then they stopped, for Loki was too concentrated in his own pleasure, in moving harder and faster and finding release, that he couldn't bring himself to keep carrying out his reprimands. Certain look was coming over his face by now, dazed and softer; his breath was hitching, there was an eagerness to his movements that hadn't been there before, and his mouth was hanging slightly open. The Grandmaster clenched around him, throwing his head back, and grunted at the overwhelming wave of pleasure that washed over him. Loki's whole body shook, a low, drawn-out sound escaping his throat as he lowered his legs, pushing inside him one last time before spilling his seed. His head fell to the Grandmaster's chest and he panted, putting all his weight on the body bellow him now that release had come and exhaustion was taking over. He was covered in a thin layer of perspiration.

The Grandmaster smiled down at the sight of the boy, feeling strangely pleased, even though his orgasm was yet to come. Perhaps because, somehow, he was the cause of his content, even though he had done little besides staying quiet and obeying instructions. He had forgotten the sense of accomplishment that used to come with that. Loki giggled lightly against his chest, slow and oddly relaxed after reaching the peak of his arousal, and he tilted his head to the side to look at the Grandmaster. His eyes were glazed over, and there was a small, almost tender smile across his face. "That was fun." He said, moving forwards to place a quick, sweet kiss on his cheek. The Grandmaster tried to fight the flush it immediately provoked, probably failing miserably. Loki giggled again, fooling around with his collar; fingers toying with the name tag that had _'Daddy'_ written on it. "I _must_ insist on returning the favor." He said, pressing his lower body against his hard member. He felt a shiver run down his back, and he tried to rut against the boy in his impatience, not caring how he must look. He told him what he wanted, and Loki smiled down at him with some malice, seeming unsurprised.

He gave him one last, promising smile, and slid down his body without hesitation, passing his hands over his sides and gripping his hips. _Oh, dear_ , he thought, closing his eyes; gasping at the way a warm tongue travelled up and down his member in slow, lingering strokes. It stopped on the hot, engorged head, and its tip pressed intently against the slit, moving in fast, teasing circles; as thought trying to penetrate it. "Oh, god, Loki." He moaned, pushing forwards as he felt a firm hand surrounding him, massaging the root of his cock in a tight grip. After so long waiting, it didn't take much time for him to reach his orgasm. He opened his eyes just in time to see Loki's hand thoughtfully working him, mouth tightly wrapped around his head as he sucked on it, and then he was coming; hands clenching painfully at his back and a silent cry gracing his lips.

Loki backed away at the last minute, smile faint and eyes lidded as he watched him spilling over his own stomach – seeming pleased at the reaction he had caused. The Grandmaster let out a deep sigh and allowed his head to fall over the pillow - breathing harsh and uneven. He closed his eyes, barely aware of Loki’s fingers lightly caressing the skin of his thighs, drawing abstract forms. “See? I told you you would like it.” The boy said, tilting his head to the side as he sat cross-legged over the mattress. He would have liked to come up with a more eloquent come back, but the force of his orgasm had been dazzling, leaving him struggling to keep his eyes open, so he only let out a tired laugh, shaking his head slightly at the boy’s cockiness.

Loki untied him, and they laid down in bed for a while afterwards, seeming content. He rested on top of him, head propped on his shoulder as the Grandmaster's fingers carded through his pretty, black curls. He stretched his long limbs with a deep sigh, placing sloppy, open-mouthed kisses along his collarbone. The Grandmaster knew some aching would appear tomorrow, when he wasn’t feeling so dazed, but he could honestly say that it was worth it. He hummed happily and pulled the covers over both of them, welcoming the warmth brought by both the thick bedsheets and the closeness of Loki's body. He pressed his lips against the boy's head, too out of it to think much of it, and surrounded his waist with his arms to hold him closer.

He'd never got to do this, before. They always left quickly after their encounters, either because one of them had something else to do that was more important than lazing around in the couch of his office, or because they'd meet in a classroom or in the library, and there was a risk of them being caught if they lingered. Meeting in his house was nowhere near as awkward as he'd thought it would be. It was actually very nice. It felt perfectly natural, to hold Loki like this, and he found himself lowering his guard; allowing his eyes to close and letting sleepiness take over. He’d dozed on the couch to the sound of the boy picking up his clothes before leaving, and even left himself hug him for a few moments after finding release, but he’d never fallen asleep beside him; feeling his soft breathing against his neck and his finger drawing small circles on his chest.

He wished he could do it more often.


End file.
